


Asylum

by SpaceCrazyArtist



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Frigga’s A+ Parenting, Genderfluid Loki (Marvel), Idiots in Love, Kid Fic, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, M/M, Magic, Odin’s A+ Parenting, Past Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Past Torture, Post-Avengers (2012), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Iron Man 3, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Thor is a Good Bro (Marvel), eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:41:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29403537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceCrazyArtist/pseuds/SpaceCrazyArtist
Summary: Post-Avengers 2012 and based onDeleted Scene from Thor: The Dark WorldCast out, and tossed away like garbage, Loki does his best to survive in an unsurvivable situation. 4000 years spent in isolation with no one and nothing to pass the time made Loki long for death. It wasn't a new thought, for years he'd been thinking perhaps ending his existence would be better for everyone. Thor wouldn't have to make excuses for his existence, his mother wouldn't have to look at him with pity and Odin wouldn't have to figure out how to use him as a political pawn. And Loki, well, Loki would finally know peace.Crafting a spell to help him live out the remainder of his days in a happy illusion would be difficult, but Loki was sure he could do it. He was, after all, the strongest mage in over 1000 years.PLEASE READ THE TAGS! While this will have VERY HAPPY PARTS it will also deal with PTSD and suicidal thoughts.
Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark
Comments: 91
Kudos: 128





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have had this idea in my head for three years. It is based on a deleted scene from Thor: The Dark World where Loki creates illusions in prison to pass the time.
> 
> If it looks familiar it’s because originally it was a Thorki that I didn’t know how to finish. I have since deleted that story and reworked the idea into a FrostIron with a fully fleshed out outline.
> 
> There will be a LOT of angst, but the ending will be happy and no one dies, promise.

_It was hot, much too hot. It felt as if his skin was shrinking and too small to fit his bones and muscles. He panted, mouth dry and body far too dehydrated for the tears that wanted to fall. Time had no meaning, he could have been there for an hour, or 100 years, it made no difference the pain never ended. The heat never went away, and just when he felt he was at his breaking point, it all stopped._

_The reprieve was short-lived, but this time it wasn’t the physical pain of a whip or the ever-present heat that threatened to tear his mind apart. The being, he couldn’t give him a name because then he would be real, ripped apart his mind, rifled through his thoughts, and twisted every good memory until all he could remember was pain and sorrow. The mental distress, the realisation that no one had ever loved him, and no one would ever love him was worse than any heat, knife marks, or whips could ever hope to be. The being left him raw and trembling until there was nothing left but white-hot rage and a need for revenge._

_The revenge was sweet at first. Death and destruction and utter chaos everywhere he went, and it was beautiful; a well-choreographed dance that played out to perfection. But as the days went on, he realised how much he hated it. He didn’t want this. Not like this. He didn’t want to kill innocent people, no matter how insignificant and short their lives were. He wasn’t a sociopath, he didn’t get off on mindless destruction. Sure, the occasional prank went awry, but it was nothing compared to the horror show that he rained down upon an unsuspecting world that had done nothing more to him than accept his brother with open arms._

_There was only one thing left to do; plan his own defeat. A well-placed safeguard and a half-hearted fight that should have ended in his escape was easy to master. His capture was an unforeseen consequence as was the 4000-year solitary confinement prison sentence. Death would have been less cruel._

_“Frigga is the only reason you're still alive, and you'll never see her again.”_

Loki woke with a gasp, bolting upright in the tiny bed he was given. His body trembled, and he felt cold for the first time ever. A frost giant shouldn’t feel cold, but the more he sat, the more he shook. A hot shower would hardly matter, so Loki sat there until his body cooperated and the tremors subsided. He sighed and looked around his pitiful excuse for a home.

Across from him was some monster Thor had fought days ago and brought in for trial. “Trial” was a hilarious term for “death sentence” but the royal family must keep up pretences, even if it meant banishing the unwanted son to 4000 years of torture. 4000 years in a tiny cell under Ásgarð’s golden palace with no one seeing him and no one to talk to was cruel beyond measure. His mother- no, not his mother, Queen Frigga sent books down to him, sent his favourite foods, but it did little to keep the inner monsters at bay. His mind screamed at him to escape in any way he could.

He sighed and flopped back onto the bed, his body finally calming, and let his mind wander. What would he be doing if he wasn’t stuck under Ásgarð? Would he travel? Maybe look beyond the Nine Realms, he’d never been outside the Nine Realms before, but there was a vast universe to explore, and even if he never returned to Ásgarð in the next 5000 years, he wouldn’t make a dent in what the universe had to offer. Maybe he would meet someone, or multiple someone’s and travel around with them. They would be a family, watching one another’s backs and getting each other into and out of trouble. Loki chuckled to himself, thinking about it and let his fantasy take shape.

The cell morphed, as Loki’s magic responded to his daydream. “Come on, Loki!” A woman yelled in front of him; Loki knew her name was Arya. She had purple skin, no hair on her head, and a plump, curvy figure clad in leather and metal. There was a bundle in her arms that contained the wares they’d been paid to steal. “We haven’t been found out yet, but if you don’t hurry, we’ll be caught.”

They were in a hallway of what appeared to be a ship travelling through hyperspace. The stars outside the windows were streaks of white. Loki turned to the woman and hurried to catch up; she was right, if they were caught, they would be executed, and that would certainly put a damper on their fun. “I’m right behind you,” he called out, rounding the corner. So far the alarms hadn’t sounded, but it was only a matter of time, and he couldn’t teleport them off the ship whilst in hyperspace.

It was only another minute before the alarms sounded throughout the ship. Over the comm system, a voice spoke to them, “we know what you took, and we know you’re still on the ship. Return it to us, and we’ll let you live.” Loki looked at his companion and grinned. He knew the aliens didn’t have a clue where they were on the ship, Loki’s magic made sure of it.

Just off the ship’s port side was a small craft, cloaked to most scanners and containing the rest of Loki’s crew. He laughed as they rounded a corner and came face to face with the enemy. The guards held up their guns, charged and ready to fire when ordered. Loki smirked and waved a hand turning the guns into giant dildos instead. Arya burst out laughing, but the guards didn’t look nearly as amused. “Highness!” One of the guards yelled, glaring at them, which wasn’t right. No one should have known Loki was a prince, let alone call him by his title. Well, his crew knew, of course, they were family, but no one save his family knew Loki’s history.

“Highness!” The guard called again, and Loki realised no one was moving their mouths. He frowned and looked around as his fantasy dissolved around him, much to his annoyance.

Outside his cell stood three of Ásgarð’s finest, or, well probably not finest if they were in the dungeons. He glared at them. “What?!” He snapped, irritated to have been pulled out of his dream. “What could you possibly want with the disgraced prince of Ásgarð?”

The men looked at one another, clearly uncomfortable. One stepped forward and cleared his throat. “Forgive us, Highness, but we’ve brought provisions from your mother. She insisted on the delivery at once.”

“She isn’t-” Loki’s hands clenched into fists as he cut himself off, not yet able to deny his mother. “Fine.” He stepped back and allowed them entry. He could have fought, could have tried to get away, but what was the point? Heimdall no doubt kept a close eye on him, and with his magic unable to influence anything beyond the barrier whilst he was inside, it would take more planning. Planning he had every intention of doing. Loki would not stay in prison for long. He would not allow himself to be a captive for the rest of his life or allow Odin to take away his chance at happiness.

He would find a way to be free.

As the days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months, Loki continued to lose himself in his dreams. They weren’t always the same, but they always held the same feeling of love and acceptance. Sometimes he was a member of a crew travelling the universe, and other times he was still on Ásgarð, beloved and wanted by the people and those he used to call family. Sometimes his dreams lasted days before a guard would come around, and his fantasy would shatter. He tried hard to lose himself in his imagination, to keep the magic going so long that no one could break it and he could live the remainder of his days free and happy until his physical body gave out.

It wasn’t the freedom he truly wanted, but it was better than the alternative. And the idea of dying didn’t bother him as much as he thought it should. If he could lose himself completely, if he could find a way to strengthen his magic so it kept the illusion no matter what happened in the real world, then he wouldn’t even know he was dying. He would be happy, living life with his family, living a life where he was loved and wanted and appreciated until one day it all just ended and that was that. It was rather appealing, Loki thought as he worked on the spell to keep his magic flowing.

On day four hundred and twenty-seven Loki set his spell and lost himself in the fantasy that Ásgarð was his. He was being crowned, not Thor, and the people cheered as Loki walked down the aisle towards Odin, his red cloak flowing behind him as he walked. Mjölnir was in his hand, light and thrumming with power. He held it up, letting his magic flow through it and the people cheered him on. “Loki!” They chanted, bowing as he walked by and he smiled and nodded to each of them.

Thor stood with their mother off to the left, smiling with pride and happiness as Loki continued to walk forward and knelt before their father. Odin walked down to meet him, speaking the ritualistic words that would end in Loki becoming king. “Loki,” Odin called, but it wasn’t his voice. Loki blinked, and stood, frowning as Odin called his name again, but again, it wasn’t his voice.

“Loki what are you doing?” Frigga asked as Loki turned to face her.

What was he doing? How could she even ask that? He laughed and turned away, looking back at his fantasy family, still standing by the throne and smiling proudly at him. “I’m giving the people what they want,” he answered honestly.

It shouldn’t have been possible for Frigga to break through, but Loki was determined to ignore her. Unfortunately, she was persistent and magically strong. “Does all this make you feel better?” She asked in that annoyingly patronising way. How dare she ask such a thing when it was her fault he was there in the first place. He should have been executed months ago! He should have been killed during the battle on Midgard, but no, Thor was noble and had to take him back to Ásgarð. His mother had to condemn him to a life of imprisonment where he would slowly lose his mind from lack of stimulation or even people to talk to.

“Well, it certainly doesn’t make me feel worse,” he sneered.

Frigga sighed, looking as if she pitied him, and in that instance, Loki hated her more than he hated anyone else. “Loki,” she whispered, taking a step forward. He stepped back, and she stopped. “Cast enough illusions and you risk forgetting what is real.”

The illusion faded as the spell broke, and Loki just barely stopped himself from screaming. He took a slow, deliberate breath, and waved a hand, breaking Frigga’s projection spell. As her form faded, he whispered, “precisely.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Landing on Midgard was NOT the plan and Loki has no idea what turns his life is going to take

The crash was not planned. Loki managed to curl himself into a protective ball as his teleportation spell dropped him three feet in the air and he landed on top of a car. The alarms blared around the room he found himself in, and a loud wailing cry joined the noise. Loki lay stunned, shaking from the impact as cursing joined the already deafening noise echoing around the room.

“The FUCK!?” Loki heard from across the room. 

Laying still to get his bearings could end in Loki’s death, and he didn’t want that, he had people depending on him, so he pulled himself together and rolled off the broken car. The room was impressive, with screens, and robots, and technology Loki didn’t understand covering every speck of surface. Along the back wall was a line of vehicles that Loki knew Midgardians prized above most everything else. It seemed ridiculous, but then he could teleport so didn’t need extra modes of transportation.

“Don’t. Move.” 

Loki’s eyes snapped up, meeting wide brown eyes and an outstretched hand with a piece of technology Loki was all too familiar with. He held up his hands slowly, the wailing noises and car alarms continued to echo, but neither man did anything to stop it. “Asylum!” Loki yelled out over the noise. “Please, Stark I mean you no quarrel I only seek asylum.” If Stark turned him away, if Loki was forced to make it on Midgard on his own, he would, he would do anything, but he prayed the man would understand. He prayed to the Norns who had stopped listening to him centuries ago, that Stark would help.

The man frowned, and his arm wavered, but he didn’t back down. “Jarvis cut the alarm,” he called out, and the sound of the car stopped immediately. The crying, however, did not. “What is that?”

Slowly, keeping his eyes on the Avenger, Loki knelt on the ground and very slowly opened his coat. He pulled at a strap and unravelled bunching fabric wrapped around him to reveal two little bodies nestled against his chest. “Shhhh,” he soothed, rubbing their heads and backs gently. His eyes flicked down to look at them before looking back at Stark. “Please,” he whispered, “I cannot let Ásgarð know about them. He will take them, and I fear what will happen to them if he does. I know I have no right to ask, but I will do anything for them. Please, Stark.” 

Pleading green met hesitant brown, and Loki barely breathed as they looked at one another. Stark’s arm wavered then dropped as he looked at the two children in Loki’s arms. “Whose are they?”

Loki’s eyes hardened. How dare the mortal ask such a question. How dare he insinuate-. “They’re mine,” he growled. “What are you thinking, Stark? That I stole them?”

This time, Stark’s hands went up in a gesture of surrender. “You can’t blame me for asking,” he answered. “Last time you were here, you weren’t exactly sane. Stealing kids to save your life doesn’t seem outside the realm of possibility.” 

Loki wanted to deny it. Wanted to rage against the fact that he would ever hurt a child, and of course, he never would; even in his most insane moment, he still had enough self to not harm children. He only wished he would have been capable of not hurting anyone else. But the past was the past, and there was nothing he could do about it. All he could do was live for the future, live for his children. “I promise you, Stark, they are mine,” he finally answered. “This is Fenrir, my son, born of my body, and Hel, my daughter.” 

Gently he turned the twins so Stark could see them fully. He had to sit properly on the floor, not crouch as he had been doing, to keep them secure. Both babies had a slightly darker complexion than Loki’s, with barely visible lines swirling and crossing their entire bodies. Fenrir’s eyes were a stunning shade of violet, and he had two little teeth just scarcely visible when he smiled. Hel was a bit smaller than her brother and had a series of scars on her left side in addition to the lines her brother had. Her eyes were the same colour green as Loki’s, and she seemed a bit more serious as she took in the room. Both children had a beautiful array of black curls hanging about their faces, and slightly pointed ears. They were gorgeous, happy children, and Loki would raze the planet to the ground if any harm befell them. 

“Born of your body,” Stark repeated. “How is that possible?”

Without answering, Loki’s body shifted until in his place sat a stunning woman with curvy features and long wavy black hair. The eyes were the same. Stark stared, eyes widening as he took her in. “As you see,” Loki said, her voice a slightly higher pitch, and more melodious than her male form, “I am both a man and a woman, and I am neither. I believe you Midgardians would call me genderfluid.”

“Genderfluid,” Stark repeated again, and Loki was starting to wonder if the man was really as intelligent as Barton had said he was. He shook himself and walked closer, still cautious but now also curious, and bent until he could see the children. Immediately Hel reached out a little hand to him, and Stark smiled, touching his hand to hers. “They’re beautiful.”

Loki couldn’t help preening a bit. She knew her children were beautiful, but to hear someone else say it made warmth spread through her body. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I understand that you will need some… reparations, perhaps? In exchange for granting me asylum?” It was a question because Loki knew she stood on shaky ground. Stark could very well kick her out, he could call SHIELD or anyone else. Or, Stark could kill her where she sat if he truly wished too, although the latter would be challenging all things considered. 

With a sigh, Stark stood and walked over to a workstation, flopping in the chair and turning to face the family. “You don’t seem as crazy as you did before,” he said. “And by that I mean you don’t seem crazy at all. Cautious, maybe, but not crazy.” 

Yeah.

Spending nearly nine months locked in Ásgarð’s dungeon with nothing to do but meditate and work on self-healing did wonders for the psyche. Actually, it did nothing for the psyche, and it was amazing she wasn’t still batshit insane. Once she’d escaped to Alfheim having true friends that helped keep her hidden, and worked with her to restore her balance over the mind helped considerably. There was a part of Loki that raged against the fact it wasn’t Thor or even Frigga that had tried to help her crawl her way out of utter despair. They were her family, they were supposed to love her, but instead, she was tossed away like trash and forgotten about. It took months of raging in her cell before she was able to pull the tattered remains of her mind together enough to start healing.

The illusions helped. Feeling like she belonged somewhere, even if it was only in her mind, helped her realise what made her so angry. The spell she’d created to get lost in one of her fantasies also helped. It kept her grounded, and working on something kept her mind sharp. By the time she’d formulated a plan to escape, she was already starting to heal. The nightmares were still there, but she was no longer hallucinating about the mad man. 

Loki looked up at Stark and nodded. “It’s remarkable what having children can do for you,” she answered the unasked question. “But even…” She shook her head. She couldn't talk about it. Not yet. She couldn’t talk about the Mad Titan or what she’d gone through. She couldn’t talk about her adoption and the lies her family held over her. She couldn’t talk about the utter betrayal she’d suffered during her time as King Regent. But she would offer Stark information. “In exchange for my allowance on Midgard, and your protection, I offer any information I can give.” 

She paused, smiling as Fenrir wiggled out of her grasp to toddle around the lab and explore. Hel soon joined her brother, but Loki kept a close eye on them, making sure they couldn’t get hurt. It seemed one of Stark’s robots took a liking to the children, and soon both babies were giggling happily. “There are things I cannot tell you,” she continued, “not yet, but I can offer you information about a threat to Earth, and about technology and magic the likes of which your world has never seen.”

“You will remain here,” Stark answered. He was watching the babies walk around too. “You will not leave without my supervision, ever.” Loki nodded, and Stark continued. “I will grant you my protection in exchange for information on technology, I don’t believe in magic, so that doesn’t interest me.” Loki scowled, but Stark ignored her, “I’m going to eventually have to tell the other Avengers, but we’ll wait a bit for that. I want to make sure you’re not going to stab me while I sleep.” 

Loki chuckled. “I assure you, Stark, I have no intention in causing harm to anyone, but I agree to your terms.”

“There will be more,” the man insisted. “When I think of more, there will be more. For now, I’ll show you your room, and we can make a nursery for the babies.” He watched as DUM-E bumped into Hel and she squealed in reply. “Can you tell me who the father is?”

Loki’s body shifted again as he gracefully stood from the floor and took a seat beside Stark at the worktable. “I-” He paused, weighing his words. How much should he tell? Should he let the man know he’d broken out of prison? Did Stark already figure that? Telling the truth was dangerous, it gave people power, but he knew he’d have to give some concessions and telling the truth was one of them. Taking a breath, Loki spoke, “I managed to perfect a spell that allowed me to escape. Odin’s sentense was... extreme.” He didn’t look at the man as he spoke, choosing to watch his children play. “A death sentence would have been more compassionate,” he muttered under her breath. 

He looked at Stark to see his brow furrow. “I don’t tell you this to pity me, Stark, or even to gain sympathy, only for you to understand that I would have gone insane.” He held up a hand, “more insane. I would have lost myself, and I could not let that happen, so I crafted a spell that helped me escape and ran to Álfheim. I have friends there who hid me from Ásgarð. During the spring festival, a friend and I had a very pleasurable one night stand and my children are the result.”

“Doesn’t he want to see his kids?” Stark asked, frowning. 

“He’s dead,” Loki answered evenly. “He died whilst we were trying to escape Ásgarð. Do not worry, though, my friends performed a very powerful concealment spell. Ásgarð will not find me unless someone tells them I am here.” 

Stark nodded. “Alright. For now, we’ll go with that.” He stood and motioned for Loki to follow. “Come on, I’ll show you around. You can get settled and then we’ll figure the rest out.” Loki nodded and stood, picking up the twins and settling one on each hip. Stark stepped forward hesitantly then held out his arms. “I can take one, uh… if you want. I mean I don’t have a lot of experience with babies but…” He trailed off, and Loki allowed him to take Hel as they ascended the stairs to the main floor, Hel babbled in her little baby talk the entire way.


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn’t difficult for him to tell that Tony Stark hated having Loki in his home, a man that had been dubbed a supervillain. A supervillain who had levelled a town in New Mexico and destroyed Midtown in an attempt to take over the planet. A supervillain who had grinned maniacally and screamed sexist insults at the Black Widow. A man who had thrived in the chaos and revelled in the destruction. An alien who’d invaded Stark’s home and when Stark wouldn’t submit tossed him out a window.

After giving Loki a room and helping to set up a nursery for the children, Stark had disappeared into his lab, and Loki had barely seen him. The computer in the ceiling answered Loki’s questions, ordered food and necessities for him and the kids, and warned him not to leave the property. Other than that, Loki had had no interaction with anyone outside his twins. It was nearly as bad as being in his tiny white-walled prison cell, but at least on Midgard he could go outside and sit in the sun, and that made it all worth it. He wasn’t free, per se, but he could live with his current situation. 

The children seemed to love California. It was warm and sunny with a cool, salty smelling breeze that blew in from the ocean. There was no one else around that he could see, no other houses, which meant Stark likely owned a lot of property to keep everyone at bay. Loki could appreciate wanting to be left alone. On Ásgarð, Loki was never alone. There was schooling to attend, battle training to attend, council meetings to attend, and on the rare occasion where none of that was going on, there was Thor’s constant insistence they stay together. It had been nice when they were children, always having a companion around; Thor had made Loki feel safe, feel loved and wanted, but as they grew, they changed. Thor gained friends, warriors as he was who would mock Loki for his magic, who would call him a liar when he only ever tried to tell the truth - not the whole truth, of course, but the truth none the less.

Thinking about it, Loki couldn’t understand how people had come to call him the God of Lies. He rarely told lies. There were half-truths and hedged questions or talking around the truth with words most people didn’t understand, but rarely outright lies. It didn’t matter, he was a magic-user, a genderfluid magic-user who enjoyed the company of any gender or lack of gender, it didn’t matter to him, and Thor’s friends hated that. Of course, it hadn’t stopped Fandral from making a pass at him every time Loki was in his female form.

No, Loki rarely told lies; he didn’t need to. He could talk his way out of any situation, usually after talking himself into the situation. Chaos was fun. He loved getting into trouble or pulling a prank on unsuspecting individuals. Thor was always there with him when he was young, helping to prank and laughing. As they grew, Thor turned away from Loki’s mischievous side, wanting to battle or hunt or pummel something into the ground. It just wasn’t fun always using brawn over brains, but that was the Ásgarðian way. And so, Thor grew to be the beloved Golden Son of Ásgarð, whilst Loki stayed in the shadow, never quite good enough, never quite trusted. 

Growing up with a father who lied to everyone, Loki vowed to never do that to his children. He might hedge questions and talk his way around the truth with everyone else, but he would always be completely truthful with his children. They deserved that much. Loki knew their lives wouldn’t be easy, especially if Ásgarð got a hold of them. Technically they were royalty, but they would grow up on Midgard, aliens among the humans. Loki would have to eventually give them a permanent disguise, just as Odin had done to him. The only difference was that when his children were at home, they would look as they were born to look, Jötunn heritage lines and pointy ears on full display. 

Loki looked up at a squeal of laughter from Fenrir trying to climb up the slide. It made Loki smile, and he put his book down to better pay attention. After a week, Stark had ordered a playset for the children and had it installed. It was huge with a rock wall, a slide pole, several swings, a swinging bridge, some weird communication pipe thing that Loki didn’t understand, but the kids loved screaming into, and a slide. The twins were all over it every second they were allowed. At 15 months old, they were incredibly unstable on their feet but seemed perfectly capable of running around the playset.

It boggled the mind. 

Climbing up the slide seemed to be a little outside Fenrir’s abilities, though, and he only managed three steps before slipping to the ground. Loki held his breath, waiting for the cries to start, but the little boy only giggled and tried again and again and again. On his sixth try, Loki assisted with magic. It was worth it when his son reached the top and let out a triumphant squeal of delight. He plopped down on his little bottom and slid back down, grinning at Loki when his feet hit the ground. 

Loki clapped.

He glanced around, making sure Hel wasn’t getting into too much trouble. The house was built on the side of a cliff, and although there was a fence, Loki still worried his children would take a tumble. They wouldn’t, the fears were unfounded, but he couldn't seem to shake them. He needn’t have worried; Hel was standing on top of the swing bridge, making it swing and babbling to herself. She looked up suddenly and yelled, “Hi!” waving her little fist toward herself. 

Damn, his children were adorable. Loki turned, chuckling at his daughter’s antics when he met the shocked face of a woman he’d never met. He’d seen pictures of her, though, Stark’s assistant, girlfriend, CEO, or whatever. She was standing just outside the french doors leading to the patio Loki was sitting on, staring in absolute terror. Loki rose slowly, not wanting to scare the woman even more and held his hands out to show he was not a threat. “Ms Potts,” he intoned, taking a step forward. 

The woman backed up a step. “How do you know me?” She yelped, her voice going up several octaves. “Jarvis, call SHIELD and let them know we have an intruder.” 

“Don’t,” Loki ordered quickly. “Call Stark. Computer, please!”

“Mr Stark is on his way up from the lab,” Jarvis informed them. “I have been instructed not to contact SHIELD on matters pertaining to Mr Odinson.” 

Loki scowled at the name; in no universe would he ever be an ‘Odinson’. “Just ‘Loki’ is fine, Jarvis. I prefer to have no last name at all than to use Odin’s.” 

“Of course, Mr Loki,” the computer answered. 

Potts seemed taken aback by the computer’s easy acquiescence and took another step backwards, hand sliding into her pocket for her phone. Thankfully Stark showed up just before she could dial whoever she was calling. SHIELD or another Avenger, perhaps. Loki really didn’t want to find out. As lonely as it was spending all his time in the massive house without anyone to talk to, he’d prefer it over a jail cell. Plus, he would never allow someone else to raise his twins. They were his children and he would raise them as he saw fit. 

The twins were still playing on the playset, little giggles and happy squeals told Loki they were unaware of the growing tension between the adults. He preferred it that way but took a few steps backwards until he could watch both the kids and the woman. She and Stark were speaking too quietly for Loki to overhear, even with his advanced hearing, and he didn't care enough to cast a spell to listen. Instead, he turned to Hel, clinging to the rock wall like a little burr not going up or down. “Do you need help, Baby Girl?” He asked softly.

Hel looked up at him and grinned. “Hi,” she greeted, and Loki returned it. “Hi” was both her and Fenrir’s favourite words to say, although they could say a few others, ‘bird,’ and ‘no’ were a few of their favourites. As of yet, they’d not called him mother, or father which made him sad but eventually, they would settle on a name. 

“Loki,” Stark called from just inside the house. The woman was still with him, arms folded and scowling, but she wasn’t calling anyone or running away screaming… or shooting at him, so Loki figured that was a win. “Bring the kids, let me introduce all of you.” 

Using magic, which made the babies scream in delight, Loki floated the kids into the house and walked behind. He gently lowered them to the ground and let them go after closing the door to the outside. Various toys were scattered around that they immediately went to play with, ignoring the boring adults. “Ms Potts,” Loki nodded a greeting. “I assure you I mean no harm to anyone on Midgard. I am here to raise my children, nothing more.”

“Your children.” It wasn’t a question, and Loki’s eyes hardened.

Before either of them could say more, Stark stepped between them and replied, “yes, they are his children, Hel and Fenrir.”

Pott’s eyes furrowed as she looked over at the babies. “Hell? You named your child Hell?”

Loki sighed. He supposed if he was going to live on Midgard, he probably should fit their names to something a little more … well… Midgardian. Hela perhaps, or Helen. He wrinkled his nose at the idea of Helen; it was just so pedestrian. Sighing, Loki explained, “Hel, with one L, is not the Christian underworld or torture, but a Vanir name signifying strength and talent. My daughter is a princess; she will be a powerful warrior and mage in her own right. It was only fitting to give her an equally strong name.”

“And Fenrir?”

“An Æsir name,” Loki answered, “although I have looked it up on Earth, and there is a similar name, ‘Fenn’, that means the same as Fenrir.” It really didn’t matter what anyone else thought of their names, or thought of him, or even their little family. Loki took pride in his children and would defend them to the ends of the Earth and beyond. This slip of a woman meant nothing to him. 

“Right,” Stark piped up, “so uh yeah. Loki’s here hiding out, and in exchange for me letting him do that, he’s giving me information on technology and magic and anything else I want.” Potts looked from Stark to Loki then back to Stark, still frowning. Hel took that moment to toddle over and wrap her arms around Stark’s leg. She seemed to be taken with him, making Loki equal parts horrified and pleased. 

Without missing a beat, Stark bent and picked her up to settle on his hip. “Hi,” she chirped, and Stark repeated it, making her giggle. 

It was a rarity for Loki to feel absolute terror, but when Stark picked up his daughter, a shot of fear went through him. It wasn’t that he was worried Stark would hurt her; he knew the man wouldn’t, but there was always the possibility that the children would be taken away, and then where would Loki be? If SHIELD got a hold of them, or worse, Odin, Loki wasn’t sure what he would do. The first time he was on Earth to mess it up, he’d been under the command of someone else, and he hadn’t wanted to do any of it. If his children were hurt, he would show them what he could do at full power, and he was sure the Avengers wouldn’t like it. He was also sure he would win. 

For several seconds Loki didn’t breathe as his seiðr swirled around him, ready to strike if needed. When all that happened was Hel grinning and Stark grinning back, Loki let the breath out and focused on taking several more. He was still tense, not knowing what Potts would do, but a carefully placed spell, ensuring she would be unable to tell anyone about Loki or his children took care of his worry. He smiled to himself as the magic took hold without anyone being the wiser. 

The little girl turned in Stark’s arms, pointing at Potts and asked, “zat?”

“That’s Pepper,” the man answered. “She runs my company and makes sure I’m not late for things.”

“Which you always are.”

Stark ignored her and continued to speak to Hel as if the little girl could completely understand. Maybe she could; Loki didn’t know. “She doesn’t like strawberries and can run really fast in high heels without breaking an ankle.” 

“Ooooooh,” Hel cooed and nodded at everything Stark told her. Loki chuckled. “Hi!” the little girl said to Potts, but the woman didn’t answer; Hel didn’t seem to notice.

“Anyway, yeah so, kids,” Stark said with a shrug. “They like chicken nuggets and pudding.” How Stark knew that Loki had no clue. He spent most of his time in the lab, and when he wasn’t in the lab, he was at his office building or flying around in the damned suit. He hardly had any interaction with them, so Loki had no idea why Hel seemed so smitten. Fenrir was still toddling around, playing with his toys and ignoring everyone, which Loki preferred. 

“PU-ING!” Both toddlers shouted. Fen immediately turned around and ran at top toddle over to Stark, chanting “pu’ing pu’ing pu’ing” the entire way. 

Great. Mentioning a snack was precisely what Loki had wanted, and he glared at the man but walked to the kitchen to get them both pudding. Hel liked the vanilla best, whilst Fen preferred the chocolate. He scooped each into bowls and walked back to the kids. “You have to sit and eat carefully,” he told them. “Do not get this on yourselves or the couch.” It was ridiculous; of course, they would be wearing more pudding than eating it. 

Stark placed Hel next to her brother, and Loki gave them the pudding. For three bites, the pudding went in the mouth, but on the fourth, Hel ended up with a lapful and when Fen giggled, chocolate fell onto the couch. Loki sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose with one hand whilst waving the other to banish the mess. “So handy to have around,” Stark quipped and grinned. Loki rolled his eyes because other than the day they literally dropped in, he hadn’t actually seen Stark. 

“Soooo,” Stark drawled, looking at Pepper. She was staring at Loki but turned quickly when Stark started talking. “You here for anything?”

“OH!” Pepper seemed to remember. “The buy-out paperwork has come back from legal, and you need to sign things.” 

Stark made a face making Loki smile. He remembered those days, signing paperwork, pouring over legal documents, writing speeches and new proposals. He’d actually enjoyed the work, thought what he was doing was important, that his father respected him for it. What a joke it had all been. Stark, though, his work was essential to his company; he was essential to the company, as was Ms Potts. Together, they kept the production going and people employed. Loki wondered if he’d ever get a job or have something important to do...well, other than raising his kids, which was pretty damned important.

He turned back into the conversation to hear Stark invite Potts to the lab to get the work done. Loki sighed as he and the children were once more left alone. There was pudding everywhere, but this time Loki didn’t clean it up; he’d let them finish first. “Just us again,” he whispered, crouching in front of them. He tugged their little feet to make them giggle and smiled back. Even if they spent the next century just the three of them, Loki wouldn’t care. It would mean his kids were healthy and safe, and that was all that mattered.


	4. Chapter 4

“Don’t struggle, Ásgarðian,” the voice mocked, “just let the Mind Stone do its job. Let it in, and you’ll feel so much better.”

“Loki,” the voice changed, and Loki moaned. He had to get away. “Loki, enough of this!” The voice was angry, but it wasn’t the right voice. Thanos morphed until Loki was staring up at Thor. He was in the white prison cell, laying on a tiny bed with Thor and Frigga staring down at him with varying levels of scepticism and worry. 

Ásgarð. 

He was back on Ásgarð; he was back in the dungeons. His children were on Midgard without him, without his protection. He had to get away; he couldn’t let Odin have them, he couldn’t let anyone know about them. “No,” Loki moaned, eyes widening before he closed them tight, curling in on himself. No… no, he couldn’t be back; he couldn’t be back on Ásgarð! Who would take care of Hel and Fenrir? They were just babies, they were only 16 months old, they were innocent! “No, please,” Loki moaned again. His seiðr curled around him, protecting him from the outside, and Loki took comfort in the familiar feeling. 

“Loki!” Thor yelled.

“NO!” Loki screamed, bolting upright. He was panting, his heart was beathing out of his chest as terror washed over him in waves. The room was dark, too dark, and he couldn't seem to stop shivering. “J-J-Jarvis,” he chattered, his teeth clanking together, “l-lights, please.” Immediately the room was flooded with warm yellow light, and Loki sighed. He couldn’t seem to get his body under control, but at least no shadows were lurking in the corners of the room. 

“Do you wish me to call Mr Stark?” The AI asked. It was a nice gesture, and had Loki and Stark been friends, he likely would have agreed, but Loki had no friends. He had no one save two little babies sleeping in the room across the hall. “He is in his lab but probably could use the distraction.”

“No,” Loki finally answered. He was still shivering, but his body felt hot, too hot. Sliding out of bed, Loki made his way to the bathroom and turned the shower onto the coldest setting it had. He stepped under, sighing as the water hit his fevered skin. The nightmares were nothing new, but he hadn’t had one in a while and had hoped they’d stopped altogether. Wishful thinking. He would never be rid of the mad man, and one day, likely soon, the man would come for him. But that dream was different from his usual dreams. It started the same, with him begging for the torture to stop, then shifted to him on Ásgarð with Thor and Frigga standing over him. Thor sounded angry and was shouting at him, but that had never happened whilst he was imprisoned. Thor had never talked to him, had never asked about him. 

The tiles of the insanely huge shower were blessedly cold, and Loki slid down to the floor to let the water wash over him. He pressed his face into his knees and concentrated on breathing to get himself under control. It took an entire hour, but he finally managed to stop shaking, and his breathing evened out. He wouldn’t sleep, he knew that, so he quickly dried off, dressed, and headed out of his room to wander the mansion. 

It was roughly 2:30 in the morning, but the light leading down to the lab was still on. There was a code to get in, but Loki teleported directly to the lab, bypassing the extra security. It looked exactly like it did the day he’d dropped in from the sky and smashed one of Stark’s toys. The toy was still where Loki had left it, an Ásgarðian sized dent on full display. 

There was a crash to the left, then Stark’s screech of, “JESUS FUCKING CHRIST,” making Loki jump and spin to face him. The inventor was sprawled out on the floor, his eyes wide as he clutched at the blue light in his chest. “Where did you come from? Why are you in my lab?” he demanded.

It was perhaps a miscalculation on Loki’s part to appear as he had. He hadn’t been thinking about anything beyond not being alone. The weird sensation of being back in the white room with Thor and Frigga standing over him had left a chill in his bones almost as bad as thinking about the Titan. “I apologise,” Loki answered after a pause. “I saw the light was on…” he didn’t know what else to say, so let the sentence drop.

Stark frowned. “So you thought invading my lab was a good idea?” 

No. Apparently, it wasn’t. Loki barely stopped himself from flinching. Instead, he gave a short nod and turned towards the door. “Again, apologies for interrupting you, Stark. I shan’t happen again.” 

‘Invade’ was the word Stark used, which Loki knew was very deliberate. It was bait to get a rise out of Loki, which would have worked beautifully in the past. Loki would have gotten angry, would have raged against Stark for daring to insinuate Loki was doing anything wrong. For weeks Loki followed every rule. He never left, he caused no trouble, he barely asked for anything outside of food, and he stayed as far from Stark as possible, doing nothing more than reading and taking care of his twins. 

The emotions didn’t flood to the surface as they used to; they didn’t turn toxic and volatile and make Loki want to lash out. He felt nothing, really. No anger, no sadness, certainly no happiness; there was enjoyment through his children, but nothing more than that. The bait word meant nothing to him; he just didn’t care about anything anymore. He didn’t even care if he lived, so what did he care if Stark hated him?

Taking a breath to shake off the remainder of the nightmare, Loki opened the door to the lab and stepped through only to hear Stark’s, “Loki! Wait.” He paused but didn’t turn around. Likely, Stark had more rules for him, like don’t enter the lab, don’t leave his room at night, don’t bother Stark whilst he’s working, or something similar. And, of course, Loki would agree, even if it meant giving up more freedoms. “It’s alright,” Stark finally said with a sigh. Loki turned around, frowning in confusion. “Come back inside, I- I guess we haven’t really seen much of each other the past two months.”

Not even two months, but Loki didn’t say that; he turned, closing the door and walked back to the lab. There was a couch against one wall, and he sat, looking around at the various devices. “You have a lot of robots.”

Surprisingly Stark laughed. “Yeah. That’s Butterfingers and DUM-E,” he introduced, pointing to each of them. “They’re semi-AI. Not like Jarvis, but they have a bit of personality.” Loki had wondered after seeing them with the kids that first day but never cared enough to ask. “So how did you get in here? I didn’t hear the door, and it has an access code.”

“I teleported.”

Stark’s eyes widened. “People can do that?”

“People who know how,” Loki answered, not knowing where Stark was going with his question. He did promise to be truthful in answering questions when asked, so true to his word, he did respond but didn’t volunteer any information. If Stark wanted to know something, he would have to get better at asking.

It didn’t take long for the man to catch onto how Loki was answering, and he chuckled at the fifth one-word answer. “Alright. Let’s try something else. Will you allow me to connect a device to you that will give me computer readings while you teleport? Since you keep saying magic, I’ll have to run my own tests.”

Looking slightly dubious, Loki asked, “what kind of device?”

Stark immediately jumped up and went to a set of drawers, opening one and rifling through until he pulled out several strips of fabric. “These have little sensors on them that will plug into Jarvis remotely. When you teleport, it will send back readings to my console.” Loki motioned for him to continue. “I’ll connect one around your forehead and two to your wrists. It won’t hurt; you won’t even know they’re doing anything. Just an accessory.”

Everything in him screamed to run, to not let a scientist get that close and do ‘tests,’ but Loki told that part of him to shut up and held out his wrists. “What do I need to do?” Loki asked once the bands were in place.

“Teleport around the room.” 

Loki raised an eyebrow but then did as he was told. He teleported a few times around the room, letting Stark get what he wanted. When the man let out an excited “whoop” noise, Loki appeared behind him to look at the screen. It was a bunch of numbers and statistical readouts that Loki didn’t understand. “Is this good?” He asked, surprisingly curious.

Stark grinned up at him. “Yeah, Shawshank, really good.” Loki rolled his eyes at the nickname he didn’t understand but said nothing. It was the most interaction he’d had outside his kids in over a year, and he didn’t want to break the precarious atmosphere. 

The two spent the next three hours talking about the teleportation data. Loki tried to explain the magical theory behind teleportation, but it was difficult for a scientist and engineer to grasp the concept of ‘I change the laws of physics to suit my needs’, so Loki changed tactics. “Alright, so I don’t necessarily change the laws of the universe, there are some that are constants, but I can bend reality to suit my needs.” He waved his hand, and an apple appeared on the table. When Stark went to pick it up, his hand went through it. “Projection without a projector. It’s the same concept of bending and controlling light to create an image.” 

“But if you don’t have a projector, how do you project?”

It was a good question, and Loki smiled as he answered, enjoying himself in a way he hadn’t in a very long time. By the time the two men went to bed, Loki was pleasantly exhausted but surprisingly happy. Stark seemed as though he had an equally enjoyable time as they said their goodnights. 

Just as Loki was about to shut the door, Stark’s voice called out again. “Hey, so, uh, maybe we can go over magical theory again?” Loki raised an eyebrow, amused. “Yeah yeah, I know what I said before, but I’d love to figure some of these things out scientifically.” 

“Tomorrow then,” Loki agreed before shutting the door. He’d had fun, surprisingly. Talking to Stark about magic, watching the man’s face go from disbelief to confusion to understanding, had been enjoyable. He hoped maybe they could continue their nightly ritual. Only time would tell. Loki fell asleep moments later, exhausted and with a blank mind; there were no more nightmares that night.

Three days went by with Loki and Stark doing more than merely co-existing. The mornings were spent outside with the kids running around, and whilst the adults didn’t speak of anything too important, having a conversation was pleasant. Loki started to think that maybe things would be okay, that perhaps he could find a friend in Stark. The man was certainly intelligent enough to keep up with Loki’s mind, and the friendly banter was actually fun. Never in his life had Loki had a friend who actually enjoyed the quick wit and harmless banter. Stark, though, not only seemed to like it, he returned it. Stark would often toss out a throwaway line that had Loki pausing only to laugh once he realised the remark wasn’t out of malice, but the sharing of a mutual enjoyment to tease. 

After lunch, the babies would go down for naps, and Stark would disappear in his lab. It didn’t bother Loki; he knew the man loved his toys and his science and was likely still trying to figure out how to create a machine that would give him the ability to teleport. Loki thought it would be faster if he just taught Stark magic, but the man insisted magic was just science he didn’t understand yet. It was an argument Loki had no intention of having. 

By dinner, the four reunited at the small table in the kitchen where Loki and Stark would share whatever type of meal was ordered, and the babies would mostly wear their baby food. One night, Stark ordered something called Mac n’ Cheese, and the kids gobbled up the cheesy noodles as if they were starving. They also wore more of the cheese than Loki was sure made it into their mouths. It was amusing and always called for an after-dinner bath. 

Thankfully, the bath made the little ones sleepy enough that putting them to bed went quickly, and Loki joined Stark in the lab. They would discuss other magical theories such as illusions and protection barriers. Whenever Stark needed readouts, the sensors would go back onto Loki, and he would perform whatever magic that was requested. Whilst sometimes he felt like a rat in a maze, the discussions were enjoyable. Talking to someone about magic who didn’t mock him, who’s eyes widened, and questions were tossed out at lightning speed as a novel experience that Loki revelled in. 

Unfortunately, on the fifth day, Loki awoke to find Stark gone. He didn’t think much of it, the man did have a company to run after all. There was also the whole Iron Man thing that Loki tried hard not to think about but was impossible to escape. Even with all Stark’s duties, Loki figured he’d be home at a reasonable hour. When midnight rolled around, Loki went to bed only to wake the next day to find Stark still missing. 

A quick inquiry to the computer in the ceiling assured Loki that Stark had slept in his bed that night. Unfortunately, a woman had also slept in Stark’s bed that night. She left shortly after dawn, and Loki didn’t think much more of it until it happened again and again and again, and by the next month, Stark was adding being completely drunk when he came home. It made Loki furious.

It wasn’t the tarts he kept bringing home that made him mad, it was the fact he had two little children in the house, and Stark thought it was acceptable to be completely drunk off his ass. “This is utterly irresponsible,” Loki argued cornering Stark in the foyer that night. He waved his hand and sent Stark’s “companion” home. She wouldn’t have any memory of how she’d gotten home or even remember leaving the party but was otherwise perfectly healthy; Loki made sure of it. 

Stark glared, and even with all the alcohol in his system, the glare was forceful. “You have no right,” he hissed, getting up in Loki’s face. 

“I have every right,” Loki insisted. “There are children in this house, Stark. My children. I don’t care who you fuck, but don’t keep bringing strangers around my children.” He was angry and took a step forward. His magic pulsed just below the skin, ready to use should he need it. “The one from yesterday didn’t leave until nearly nine am, and my children were playing in the house when she did leave. What if she’d said something to someone? Tony Stark having children in his house is a little odd, don’t you think?”

“Who are you,” Stark argued, “to tell me what I can and can’t do in my own house.” Stark might have had a point, but he would take no chances when it came to Loki’s children.

“I’m the parent of those two babies!”

The answer only made Stark angrier. Loki could see the scarcely contained rage in the way the man held himself. His fists clenched, and he was shaking just barely but was trying to keep his voice down. Instead of shouting, he stepped closer to Loki and hissed, “this is my house. I will bring who I want. I will leave or come back when I want. I will drink as much as I want. I will not have my life dictated to by a supervillain!”

Loki recoiled as if he’d been struck. He’d been so stupid to think he and Stark were forming a sort of friendship. A few nights of enjoyment didn’t a friendship make and it certainly didn’t erase the past. Loki was only there because Stark wanted information and could use him to help create more technology for Midgard. Loki was stupid to think it was anything else, and he cursed himself as he stepped back from the mortal. “Of course,” he intoned, “I forgot my place.” 

Without waiting for an answer he didn’t want to hear, Loki teleported to his room. He wanted to rage, he wanted to destroy, he wanted to scream, but he did none of those things. Instead, Loki changed into his sleep clothes, grabbed a book, and settled into bed. If Stark wanted to party and bring home women who were only using him, it wasn’t Loki’s business. Loki would have to make sure the children were hidden from any persons that entered the house that wasn’t him or Stark. It would be a complicated spell, but he could manage it, and his children would be safe. 

No matter what, his children would be safe.


	5. Chapter 5

The sun was high in the sky by the time Loki blinked his eyes open. It was much later than usual when he awoke; his curtains were wide open, giving him an unobstructed view of the beautiful ocean. Usually, the first ray of light woke him, and he would lay in bed, watching as the sky went from dark to pink and eventually back to a light blue as the sun rose behind the mansion. 

That morning Loki had no desire to get out of bed. It had been three weeks since he and Stark fought, and Loki hadn’t seen him since. He supposed that was how it would be from then on: Stark would disappear, and Loki and the twins would have the house to themselves to do as they wished. Jarvis still answered questions unless he was asked where Stark was and would order food and other supplies. Loki guessed that was as good as he was going to get. At least he was still on Midgard, and Stark hadn’t taken back his deal. 

Slowly, Loki slid from the bed, body shifting to a woman to breastfeed her children, and padded into the nursery. She expected her kids to be awake and playing, but their crib was empty. Loki had a flash moment of panic before she heard the unmistakable sounds of giggling coming from downstairs. At 18 months old, the twins were into everything. They would run as fast as their tiny legs could carry them all over the house. That morning was no exception; by the time Loki made her way downstairs, not bothering to shift back into her male form, the twins were chasing Stark all around the living room. He was running slowly in an exaggerated cartoony style, allowing the little ones to catch him. 

All three of them fell to the floor, rolling around and wrestling until they came to a stop with Fen and Hel lounging on Stark’s chest. “You got me!” Stark exclaimed, acting like he couldn’t get up. The babies squealed with delight yelling, “go you,” over and over.

“Well,” Loki drawled, “they’ll certainly be tired enough for nap time later.” The statement was met with a chorus of “no nap!” making Loki laugh. Even Stark had complained, which only made Loki laugh harder.

The engineer sat up, holding the kids in his lap. None of them seemed inclined to move. “Naps are no fun,” Stark insisted with a pout. Loki raised an eyebrow in reply. 

After three weeks of glares and complete silence Stark was smiling and teasing Loki about naps. He’d even gotten up early, fed the twins, and took them downstairs to play. He was sober; as far as Loki could see, there were no bimbos in the house, and there were no hostile glares tossed Loki’s way. It was all very confusing. Was this some trick to get Loki to drop her guard? Was Stark wanting out of his deal and figured if he was friendly, Loki would be easier to capture? 

There were too many questions, too many variables involved for Loki to make a logical conclusion. She didn’t want to jump to conclusions that had never helped her before, but it was hard when evidence of Stark’s complete 180 was staring her in the face. Or rather, laughing and rolling around on the floor with the twins. Although Loki had to admit, even when Stark was MIA or glaring at Loki, he was always kind to the children. He never seemed to mind Hel’s constant bombardment of questions or Fen wrapping himself around Stark’s leg and sitting on his foot. 

It was a conundrum.

Loki hated conundrums. 

She stared in utter confusion as Stark rolled to his hands and knees and started to crawl away from the kids, laughing like a crazed loon. “Ha! I’m getting away!” Stark shouted, still crackling. The twins immediately took off after him, a chorus of “gonna ge’ you” echoing around the room. 

Never in Loki’s life would she have ever thought that Pepper Potts walking through the front door would have been a welcome sight. But that morning was just plain odd, no reason for the odd not to continue. The twins looked up, and Hel piped up with a cheery, “Hi!” but continued to chase Stark around the room; Fen ignored the woman completely. 

“Looks like we’re all having fun this morning,” Potts remarked with a small smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes. She looked around the room, which had seen better days. The couch was haphazardly pushed against a wall, one of the chairs overturned, the area rug was bunched up, and there was a puddle of what Loki assumed was juice near the french doors leading to the balcony. 

She took it all in, frowning at the utter chaos before she noticed Loki still standing by the stairs. “Oh,” she exclaimed, her eyes widening as she took Loki in. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met?” Loki was wearing blue sleep pants with cartoon clouds all over them and a matching white t-shirt with a cartoon cloud on the front. The shirt was thin, which did nothing to hide that she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath. Potts glanced over at Stark, her frown deepening to disapproval. 

Instead of waiting for Stark’s introduction, Loki spoke up, “it seems out of character for you to have forgotten Stark’s and my arrangement so quickly, Ms Potts.” It was a dig, and Loki knew Stark wouldn’t be pleased with it, but she couldn’t help herself. Judging from the twin frowns on both adults’ faces, Loki knew she’d been right; neither were happy with her reply. 

The frown on Pott’s face morphed into realisation, then disbelief. “Loki?” she asked, her eyes once again roaming over Loki’s form.

It was an honest mistake to make; Loki did look quite different in her female form. Her hair was longer and slightly more curly, hanging to the small of her back. She was shorter, with a heart-shaped face and less angled jawline; her eyes, whilst still the same shade of green, were just a touch larger and her body much curvier. “Present,” she finally answered with a small smile.

“Ho-uh…”

Stark stood, picking Hel up as he went since the little girl seemed disinclined to leave him. Fen ran over to Loki, demanding to be held, which Loki obliged happily. She pressed a kiss to the little boy’s curls, smiling when he greeted her with a soft, “hi, Mada.” 

“Uh, yeah,” Stark answered, walking closer to Potts, “So, Loki’s genderfluid only he-ah-she actually changes genders physically.”

“Oh.” 

Loki shrugged. “Have the children had breakfast?” 

“Yep!” Stark answered proudly. “From the pumped bottle in the fridge.” They were on baby food, and Stark had introduced them to a few other things like ice cream and mac n’ cheese, but Loki still breastfed and would likely do so for another few months before weaning them off. “Looks like the fun’s about to end, kiddo,” he whispered apologetically to Hel. “I have to go to work.” Hel’s arms tightened around his neck; Stark looked at Loki clearly at a loss of what to do.

Chuckling at his pain, Loki tried to take the little girl, who only tightened her arms more and wailed, “noooo,” before burying her face in Stark’s neck. Potts looked put out, but Loki ignored her; she wasn’t important. “Come on, Little One,” Loki crooned softly, “let’s go outside and play.” Hel didn’t budge; Loki and Stark shared a look. 

“Tony,” Potts called, “we really need to get these signed, and you have a board meeting this afternoon at 1:30.” 

What did she expect Stark to do? Rip the girl from his arms and toss her away? She was burrowed into him, refusing to let go, and Loki didn’t want to hurt her by pulling her away too violently. From the look on Stark’s face, he felt the same way and turned to the woman with a shrug. “Come on, we’ll go sign the papers, and you can take some things to R&D I’ve been working on.” He turned, motioning for Loki to follow and headed into the office to work with Potts; Fenrir trotted along behind him, holding his well-loved stuffed gryphon, and Loki followed behind. She just barely stopped herself from glaring at Potts as she passed. 

The office had absolutely nothing to entertain children, but it didn’t seem to bother the little ones. Hel stayed on Stark’s lap, watching as he signed paper after paper. She put her hand on one, looking up at Stark questioningly. As always, Stark explained what he was doing, talking to her like he always did as if she could understand him perfectly. Potts looked annoyed again, but neither Loki nor Stark seemed to notice, and the children certainly didn’t care. 

Fen toddled around for a few minutes, looking at various things but not touching. The little ones learned early on not to handle things without permission. They still got into things, still tried to break as much stuff as possible, but they were getting better at not handling the breakable stuff. “Fenny,” Loki called softly, trying not to disturb the others, “come on over here and let Stark and Potts work.” Predictably Fen didn’t listen. Loki shrugged, settling on the small couch in the office and pulling a book from her pocket-dimension. 

Some unknown time later, Loki looked up at the sound of her name being called to find Stark, still holding Hel, watching her. “What?” she asked, confused. 

“We’re finished,” Stark said, and Loki noticed that Potts was no longer around. “I’m going to take Hela and Fenny outside.” He didn’t wait for Loki to answer before taking Fen’s hand and heading out of the office. It wasn’t until they were outside and Hel was placed on the play set that she finally let go of Stark. 

Loki followed them, sitting in one of the lounge chairs to watch the kids run around. She was surprised when, 10 minutes later, Stark sat beside her, placing two glasses of iced tea on the table between them. “Thank you,” Loki commented. “And sorry about Hel, she appears to really like you.” 

“I’m a likeable guy,” Stark quipped, chuckling. “But really, it’s okay. I don’t mind.” 

They were silent for a long while, watching the kids play or looking out over the ocean, each lost in their own thoughts. “Uh… so…,” he started, then paused. Loki glanced at him. “Do they have magic?”

Another question that Loki was torn between hedging the truth or answering properly. The children weren’t human, they didn’t even look human, and the more people that knew about them, the more dangerous it was for them. Many Earth agencies would want to get their hands on alien children with powers to exploit, not that Loki believed Stark would do so, but she couldn’t be too careful. Taking a breath, Loki answered honestly, fear gripping her as she did, “they do,” she whispered, “Fenrir has shown signs of casting illusion, and Hel has teleported already. I had to place a protection spell on them to hold back their magic until they’re older, and I can start training them. Letting their power run free at this age is dangerous.” 

“Are they powerful?”

Stupid question. Stark needed to get better at asking relevant questions. “They are the product of the most powerful mage the Nine Realms have seen in several millennia, and a high priest elf...”

It was boasting perhaps, but it was also true; Loki just prayed to the Norns Stark would let it go. “Please don’t tell anyone,” she finally begged. It would be out of character, at least the parts of Stark’s character she knew about, for him to turn over two little babies, but Loki couldn’t trust anyone. Her life depended on it. She didn’t want anyone to know what her children were capable of, nor did she really want anyone to know precisely what she could do. Loki was powerful, very powerful, but she didn’t want Stark to know how powerful, not yet. Whilst Loki trusted that Stark would keep his word, she didn’t trust Stark with all the information. 

Stark was saved from answering by the computer. “Sir,” Jarvis interrupted, “Ms Potts wants me to remind you to not be late to the board meeting. It is now noon. The meeting is at 1:30.”

“Dammit,” Stark cursed under his breath; Loki raised an eyebrow. “I have to get going,” he said apologetically. “Maybe tonight we can talk more about you teleporting?”

It had been a while since they’d done any kind of work with Stark’s experiments. Loki wondered if the man was still working on it or if he’d given up. He hadn’t seemed to want to do anything beyond drink and fuck. She didn’t know Stark well enough to know if this was normal or not, so she merely nodded her acquiescence and watched as Stark headed inside. He paused once at the door, looking back at her, then turned and disappeared inside. Loki tried to decipher the look he’d had on his face, but it was one more mystery to add to the conundrum that was Tony Stark.

**Author's Note:**

> If you or someone you know is suicidal, find a list of international suicide prevention numbers in [THIS LINK](https://www.opencounseling.com/suicide-hotlines). 
> 
> Not sure how to comment? Try an emoji reaction!
> 
> 🥰 = Love this.  
> 🎉 = Amazing, can’t wait for more!  
> 🥺 = OMG, poor Loki! He needs a hug!  
> 💯 = Thank you for writing this


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